The Quirks, Welcome to Normal (10 page)

“Yep,” Grandpa said. “I’m Scottish, with a touch of Irish blood—they say that’s what makes me so strange.”

“Is that what they say?” Penelope asked quietly, beginning to giggle. “I’m not sure if that’s all there is to it.”

“So, Charlie,” Bree said, rapidly changing the subject. “He stays with you often?”

“Not often enough. Usually it’s just me. I’m an only child, and after my parents passed, it’s been sort of empty around here. I’ve thought about moving closer to
Detroit so I could see Charlie more often, but I’m from here, my friends are here, my job and students are here—I just can’t seem to leave Normal. Can’t get away once
you’ve fallen in love with a town. This is the kind of place people live in and never leave.”

“That’s understandable,” Bree said, cupping her chin in her hands. Like the last time they’d had dinner together, Mr. Intihar soon imitated her pose and his own chin was
loosely resting in his palms.

Just as their dinner arrived, Molly realized Finn was nowhere to be seen. Her mom’s greatest fear, whenever they went anywhere, was that he’d slip out the front door and head off to
who knows where. Molly knew it was her job to keep an eye on him, since no one else could. “I gotta go,” Molly said, hastily getting up from the table. She knew it wasn’t polite
to stand up without being excused, but it would be even more impolite to lose her brother. “I need to find—” Mr. Intihar looked at her curiously.

Molly sighed. Finn never made things easy. She smiled and backed away from the table. “Oh, never mind. Save me some pie!”

M
o
l
l
y
Q
u
i
rk pressed through the front door and shivered
in the cool autumn evening. She glanced around, looking for her brother. Sure enough, Finn was standing just outside Crazy Ed’s. He was preparing to spread the remnants of Martha’s
noodle kugel across the front hood of someone’s blue minivan. “Finn! Get back inside. You can’t spread kugel on a car.”

Finn kicked at rocks in the parking lot. “It’s a van. And anyway, I hate when I’m stuck being quiet. Guests are the worst.” He hung his head miserably and wandered away
on the front sidewalk.

“Mr. Intihar has a son, you know. Charlie. He’s your age,” Molly yelled after him, then realized she shouldn’t have said anything. It’s not like Finn could hang out
with this Charlie kid. They certainly couldn’t tell their teacher about their family Quirks. Or could they?

Mr. Intihar seemed like a good guy. An understanding man. Maybe if he knew about their differences, he could help them fit in somehow? His son would be able to hang out with Finn, Mr. Intihar
could play catch with Molly in the backyard, and their mother would have someone to drink coffee with. “Mr. Intihar’s the closest thing to a family friend we’ve ever had,”
she whispered aloud. “So maybe . . .”

“We can’t tell him about us,” a small voice said behind her. “I know what you’re thinking. But it’s not a good idea.” Molly spun around and saw that
Penelope had crept up behind her as she stood out in the parking lot keeping an eye on Finn.

“But what if—” Molly began. Then she stopped. If Mr. Intihar knew about them, then the other teachers would find out, and the principal would get word of it. Soon, the whole
town would know about the Quirks’ secrets and they would be stared at and ridiculed and run out of town—or worse.

But what if that didn’t happen? She looked at Penelope hopefully. “What if Mr. Intihar
could
keep our secret?”

Penelope just stared back at her, and Molly sighed. Both girls knew, deep down in their hearts, that they could never tell their teacher about their Quirks. There was a reason they’d
remained so secretive over the years. Only one non-Quirky person—other than Molly—knew the truth. One person had been exposed to all their family secrets. And that person had taken off,
disappeared forever—without any reason and without so much as a good-bye.

Molly bit her lip, thinking about the way her father had been there one day and gone the next. It was right after Finn went see-through. They had just moved into their house in Sacramento. One
morning when Molly woke up, there were cinnamon rolls puffing up in the oven but their dad was gone. Molly and Penelope had wondered and wished for him to return a million times, but it was
obviously never going to happen.

“At least we have each other,” Pen said hopefully. “We fit together.”

“You’re right,” Molly said with a smile. “We have each other.” But she wasn’t so sure about that fitting-together thing.
She
didn’t fit with
the rest of the Quirks. So where did that leave her?

Penelope plopped down on the bench outside Crazy Ed’s and draped her arm over the giant glass bulb on the gumball machine. The antique machine had been broken since they had arrived in
town. “I wish this thing worked,” Pen said. “I can’t get the taste of Martha’s noodle kugel out of my mouth.”

After a few seconds, gumballs started shooting out the spout of the broken machine. Red, yellow, blue, green, and pink balls rained onto the ground, fanning out into a rainbow along the
sidewalk. Dozens rolled into the parking lot, finding hiding places under car tires and inside little heaps of gravel. Soon the gumball machine was empty.

“Cool trick,” Molly said.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Pen said with a shrug. But she suddenly realized that maybe, actually, she had. She had wished the machine worked, and then . . .
poof!
Gum!

But surely this was just a coincidence. Penelope had never had control over her magic before. She shook her head, then picked up a red gumball and dusted it off. She popped it into her mouth and
chewed.

Molly giggled as she gathered gumballs off the ground. Suddenly, the sound of a pickup lumbering into the parking lot made her look up. Molly realized she didn’t know where Finn had gone.
“Finn!” she called. There was no answer. She worried that he was wandering around in the middle of the parking lot—right in harm’s way. “Finnegan Quirk, where are
you?” She stared around wildly, searching for her brother in the evening light. There was still no answer.

Another minivan came rolling into the parking lot, and it suddenly seemed as though Crazy Ed’s was the busiest place on earth. “Where is he?” Penelope asked nervously.

“I don’t know!” Molly answered. “The last time I saw him he was near that car . . .” She pointed. “But then the gumballs went rolling.” She looked up,
startled. “I bet he followed them. You know Mom doesn’t like us chewing gum. Maybe he ran off to someplace where I can’t see him so he can sneak it!” She was panicked,
imagining Finn out in the parking lot somewhere, mindlessly and happily chewing gum. Trucks and cars couldn’t see him, and it would be easy for him to get hit.

“Finn!” Penelope called. She ran one way, while Molly ran the other. “Fi-
inn
!”

From across the parking lot, both girls heard a sickening squeal of tires. Molly ran toward the sound. Her breath whooshed out of her body when she saw that her brother was standing less than
six inches in front of a stopped car.

Molly stared in wonder. The driver had miraculously screeched to a stop, right in the middle of the parking lot! Molly couldn’t believe her brother had gotten so lucky. The woman inside
the car couldn’t even
see
Finn. What a strange thing that she had stopped just in the nick of time!

“I’m fine,” Finn called, waving to his sister. Gumballs fell from inside his armpit when he lifted it to wave. Molly could see that his pockets were full of gumballs.
He’d turned up the edge of his shirt to create a giant invisible pouch for even more balls, and his mouth was stuffed with the sticky stuff.

Penelope ran up next to her sister. “Finn?” she wondered aloud.

“He’s fine,” Molly said, motioning for her brother to come back to the sidewalk with them.

“I know,” Penelope said slowly, her eyes wide. “I can see him.”

“
F
i
n
n
?
”
P
enelope asked timidly, moving
toward her brother. “Is that really you?”

Finn’s face broke into a huge, lopsided smile. “You can see me?” He jumped up and down and spun in a circle and wiggled his backside. “Can you see this?” He bounced
and twisted, acting like a nut.

“You look exactly like I thought you would,” Pen said, grinning. She ran over to her brother and wrapped him in her arms. “You
look
just like you
feel
!”

The woman in the car rolled down her window. She looked shaken and her face was pasty white. There was a child, about Finn’s age, in a booster seat in the back. “I’m so
sorry,” the woman said hurriedly. “It’s like your brother popped up out of nowhere. I was driving through the parking lot, and then all of a sudden, there he was—right in
front of me! I don’t know how I didn’t see him sooner!”

Molly nodded at the woman. “It’s okay,” she said. “He’s fine.”

“He’s not hurt?” the woman asked.

Right then, Mr. Intihar, Bree, and Grandpa came barreling out of Crazy Ed’s. Mr. Intihar waved at them. “There you are, boy! I thought I saw your car pull up.” Mr. Intihar
tapped on the window of the car that had almost hit Finn. A little boy waved at him from the backseat. “Hello, Maggie,” he said, smiling warmly at the woman. “Come meet the
Quirks, Charlie.”

Charlie popped out of his seat and leaped out of the car. He ran up to Mr. Intihar and gave him a hug. Molly looked at her mother and saw that she was staring—openmouthed—at Finn.
She hustled over and squeezed her son tightly. Penelope’s arms were still wrapped around her brother. Finn looked both delighted and squished between them. In all the commotion, Grandpa Quill
hadn’t yet noticed that there was suddenly an extra kid standing in the parking lot.

Pen stared at Finn’s hair and his fingernails and his little ears as Mr. Intihar talked with Maggie and Charlie. “You’re filthy,” she whispered to him. “It’s
like you’re trying to grow carrots behind your ears.” She plucked at the backs of Finn’s dirty ear, and a tiny carrot emerged in her fingertips. She stuffed it down the back of
his shirt to hide it. “Sorry, pal.”